


You Scream

by Nitramoron



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Black Romance, M/M, holy shit why did I write this, no nitra bad, sorry 43eoidskjhuridj
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 15:50:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitramoron/pseuds/Nitramoron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dave comes across Gamzee one day, and Gamzee makes him realize it's all his fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Scream

**Author's Note:**

> um  
> I'm sorry for this I guess?  
> (I'm not saying Gamzee's a rapist and I'm not saying this would ever happen but the guy IS batshit insane)

You know he's following you. You just don't let him know you know he's following you.  
You hear his oversized, idiotic clown shoes squeaking on the tile floor of the headquarters on the meteor, wet with god knows what as he darts from pillar to pillar behind you.  
You don't look--Bro taught you to never let an enemy know you're onto them, no matter what--but you know by the way the sound from his shoes and heavy breathing bounces off the walls that he's getting closer. Too close for comfort, you realize, and go to draw your sword just as he's knocking you into the wall and pinning you with his body, and you realize for the first time that you might be in trouble.  
He's grown since you last saw him, or maybe that's just his insane self-awareness thing, because he's still lanky and lean but already seems a good head taller than you (not even including the horns, and those things look SICK, curling up in long almost-spirals from his matted nest of black hair), and he's hunched over so he can pin your arms to your sides without the use of his hands, which are holding something long and a mix of red and white to your neck, immobilizing your neck and head.  
It's then that you realize that you can't move any part of your body much, and you, Dave Strider, become very, very afraid.  
"Hey, motherfucker." he snarls, breath hot and foul in your face. "Been a LONG MOTHERFUCKING WHILE, hasn't it?" his voice creeps dangerously close to a scream in certain words, eyes widening unevenly.  
And been a while, it has. You've never actually met him, you don't think, but if you had he'd been tucked under Karkat's arm like a sad puppy, and you try to stay far from that angry guy as much as you can, but from the pictures you'd been shown he was a skinny, slouched guy with cleanly applied yet still kind of weird facepaint (like one of those ICP weirdos from back on Earth. Juggalos?), baggy clothes, messy but healthy hair, and droopy-lidded eyes. You barely see any of that in the individual pinning you to the wall right now, although you admittedly can't see much in the darkness, combined with the shitty visibility from your shades. You just see the right side of his face well from the shitty lighting system, but his paint is smeared to no end and there are three long scars spattered on his face, weird purple still oozing from them and mixed with other colors. His eyes are wide now, pupils blown wide and filled with insanity but also a previously unpresent sense of awareness that honestly scares the shit out of you and holy shit he's batshit but he still knows and he hates you and he's going to kill you you're going to die but hold on Strider you can still get out of this but you're going to /die/  
"Y-yeah, batshit. You miss me?" you stammer a little in the beginning, but manage to narrow your eyes behind your shades and pick up some of your cool.  
"No, you IDIOTIC motherfucker. IT'S FUCKING SAFE TO SAY I DIDN'T MOTHERFUCKING MISS YOU NONE. You couldn't have stayed away long enough, but you walked right into my MOTHERFUCKING CORNER OF THIS PLACE all proper and pretty, like a STUFFED GRUB ON A SILVER MOTHERFUCKING PLATTER, so who am I to up and motherfucking complain?" he cackles, rotton but sharp-toothed grin glinting in the harsh light as he laughs.  
"I came looking for you, you idiot. Figured you needed some more education on what the hell is real and what isn't." holy shit Dave that was a really stupid thing to say. Look at that, that right there? That's MURDEROUS ANGER in this whacked-out troll's eyes! What were you thinking? Dumbass.  
"YOU MOTHERFUCKING MOTHERFUCKER. You MADE ME this way, you SMEARED MOTHERFUCKING SHITSTAIN. You up and made me realize what is up and going on with this MOTHERFUCKING universe, made me DOUBT my MOTHERFUCKING RELIGION. Made me go off the sopor. Made me KILL MY FRIENDS. Now I'm too afraid of hurting anyone else I won't even let my MOIRAIL come near me. That's all your fault, Strider."  
"Hey! Don't you dare blame you going apeshit on me. Sure, I pointed out some facts, but it's not MY fault you lost it and murdered them. I'm not responsible for you being a psychotic little shit." you snarl back. The thought that he would think him killing his friends is your fault makes your blood boil, and you don't think twice before spitting in his awful, purple-oozing face.  
"Oh no, you insufferable little motherfucker, you did not just motherfucking do that." he growls, long claws hitting against the tile as he pushes the club harder, cutting of your already-labored breathing. You choke and try to squirm away from him but you've got nowhere to go, he's pinning you and oh god you can't breathe you can't BREATHE you're going to die like this and then he's.. gone.  
You look around for him frantically, gasping to catch your breath. Your hands go to your throat, rubbing at the irritated skin. It seems like he really is gone, you think before OLLYING THE FUCK OUTY, your red Converses squeaking slightly as you run as fast as you can back the way you came, trying desperately to get somewhere even remotely close to the others before he comes back, and you're just starting to think you're going to make it when suddenly he's in front of you and you can't slow in time, running right into his grimy arms like the chump you are.  
"You're going to motherfucking regret that." he chuckles low in your ear before slamming your head into the wall hard. He's still laughing, and it's ringing in your ears as you black out.

You come to god knows how much later, hands and feet bound and dangling from the ceiling. You cough, spitting out a gob of blood from where you must have bit your lip. It's quiet and dark, the only sound something dripping not far off.  
"H-hello?" you call, a little foolishly, praying he didn't drag you off somewhere deeper into the heart of the headquarters and farther from your friends.  
At first there's no response, but then you hear a honk and feel the air shift as someone runs across the room. Your breath hitches and your eyes widen. You register your shades are on the ground by your bound feet.  
There's no more noise except for that persistant goddamned dripping for what feels like a long time (and you should know, you ARE a time player, after all), and you're starting to hope he forgot about you just left you there to die.  
That hope is crushed by him coming up behind you in a damn near flashstep, putting his hands on your hips and growling wordlessly in your ear. He slides his hands under your shirt and draws his claws down your sides and you know he's breaking your skin by the burning pain and the wet heat dripping down your sides. You grunt quietly, trying not to let him he's getting to you, but when his claws slash open the front of your black jeans and your boxers, you start screaming like hell, loud and bloodcurdling and unlike any sound you've ever made before.  
He digs his claws in deeper and whispers in your ear, voice deep and scratchy and sounding annoyed.  
"Holler all you want, you little fuck. It's not like anyone'll be able to hear you none."  
And holler you do.  
You scream the whole time, loud as you can, until you lose your voice.  
You scream as he rips off your shirt, biting hard all over your neck and chest and stomach even, making you bleed.  
You scream as he gets rid of your jeans and boxers, throwing them somewhere you don't quite see.  
You scream as he drags his rank tongue down your stomach and on the insides of your thighs and when he bites down hard right beside your dick.  
You scream as he takes you into his mouth, nipping at the sensitive skin as he sucks.  
You scream as he pulls himself out of his torn, spotted sweatpants, pressing against you.  
You scream especially loud and struggle so much your arm is dislocated as he violates you, long and hard like it'd never end. So hard you can't block it out or even numb yourself in the least.  
You scream as he fills you to the brim, fills you until you're dripping dark purple. You see it splash on your shades.  
Your screams continue as he releases you, kissing you before disappearing.  
You scream as you grab your shades and limp, naked and bleeding, to where your friends reside, his noises following you.  
You scream as Kanaya fixes you up.  
You scream every night for a long while when you hear honking from the foot of your bed, coming for you.  
You try to numb yourself and you try not to cry out, but you scream until someone hears you and spooks him off. That doesn't happen all the time, but when it does you feel thankful.  
You feel thankful but you still feel hurt and violated and not ok.  
Even if you're not screaming aloud you're screaming inside, and it's all your fault. He's made you realize it by now.  
It's all your fault.


End file.
